


All You Want for Christmas is Me

by chibaken



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Draco, Christmas, Christmas Presents, Dirty Talk, First Time, Fluff, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Light BDSM, M/M, Oblivious Draco Malfoy, Party Games, Rimming, Secret Santa, Smut, Top Harry, ribbon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 06:02:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9058753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chibaken/pseuds/chibaken
Summary: Harry Potter is rich enough to buy himself anything he wants, and so famous that he receives daily gifts from his fans. Whatever is a Secret Santa to do? Draco doesn't know yet, but he's going to figure it out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, everybody!! I realized I had never seen a Secret Santa Drarry fic, and I knew immediately that I had to take responsibility and fill this gap. 
> 
> This is a present for A, who is and will always be my number one Beta.

This was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas, and Draco had no choice but to go along with it. 

Trust Granger to come up with such a ridiculous, plebeian activity. No doubt it was Muggle in origin, some feel-good holiday activity intended to induce feelings of camaraderie and generosity and all that other rot that Draco was perfectly happy ignoring. 

But unfortunately Draco _wouldn't_ be happy if everyone were to shun him for being an antisocial Death Eater who hates Christmas, which was an entirely likely outcome should he refuse to participate in this "Secret Santa" madness.

"Alright everyone! We're going to draw names now, so gather round!" Granger announced to the eighth-year common room. She was energetically waving around some sort of odd, floppy hat made of red velvet and trimmed in white fur. Perhaps it was a wizarding tradition after all, because Draco was pretty sure that Muggles didn't wear pointed hats. 

"Alright, I'll go over the rules one more time," Granger began once everyone had settled in some semblance of a circle facing her. "You will each draw one name from the hat, and then you become that person's Secret Santa. This means you have to buy them a gift, and give it to them on the last Friday before the Winter Holidays. On that day, we'll have a big party and everyone can try to guess who their Santa was! It should be loads of fun!"

Draco thought it sounded more like a load of dung, but he knew better than to comment. 

"Remember, there's a three galleon price limit. And you mustn't tell anyone who you have!" Granger beamed at the surrounding crowd, most of whom appeared rather bemused. A few faces showed genuine interest, but Draco figured that most of his year was just going along with this ridiculous farce of ‘House Unity’ because everyone indulged the Golden Trio's whims. Since she was the only one of the three Gryffindors with any sort of ambition, this equated to nearly every eighth-year student taking part in whatever unnecessary scheme Granger decided to pursue. 

Draco supposed it was a sight better than being forced to go along with the schemes of a Dark Lord, but that didn't stop him from being annoyed. And anyway, regardless of whose name he pulled, he could just buy some fancy chocolates or something. Sod the three galleon limit, because no Malfoy would be caught dead giving somebody something so cheap, but it wasn't like he had to put any actual _thought_ into the gift. 

He was feeling satisfied with his plan by the time Granger made her way over and thrust the hat under his nose. He might originally have been worried about how to get through the stupid game with his reputation intact, but everything always became easier once he decided not to expend any effort attempting to be genuine. It's not like anybody would believe it of him anyway, and surely nobody could accuse him of being a Death Eater for giving out chocolate. 

He reached into the hat and pulled out a small slip of parchment. Wondering to himself with a smile just who was about to become the lucky owner of a box of chocolates more expensive than any they'd had in their life, he looked down at the name.

_Harry Potter_

Fuck. Of course. Of bloody bludgering fucking course.

Draco closed his eyes and sighed. It really shouldn't surprise him at this point that nothing convenient ever happened to him anymore. Probably bloody karma taking revenge for his spoiled childhood. 

Whatever it was, he'd just pulled the name of the one person in the entire class to whom he absolutely could not give chocolate. Potter received boxes and boxes of chocolate (often spiked with love potion) daily from his multitude of admirers, and there was no way Draco was lumping himself in with those fanatics. 

Draco opened his eyes and glanced over at Potter, who was looking thoughtfully at his own slip of parchment. No, there was no way Draco could give him chocolates. 

He and Potter hadn't interacted much aside from a few awkward glances since coming back to Hogwarts so far, but Draco hadn't forgotten for one second that Potter had pulled him out of a fire only a few months ago, gallantly saving Draco's life. Draco had been meaning to thank him, but somehow the opportunity had never arisen, and so Draco was forced to wallow in guilt and reluctant gratitude every time he set eyes on the other boy. There was simply no way he could give Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world and, more importantly, Draco's life, a gift so impersonal as chocolates.

This unfortunately also ruled out gifts like wine, decorative glassware, plants, and pretty much everything else his mother had taught him were appropriate items to give someone you didn't know that well personally. 

Which put Draco in quite a shit situation, because he sure as hell couldn't say he knew Potter personally. Certainly they had been rivals for a good six years at least, but that didn't mean he had any idea about Potter's hobbies (Quidditch and mischief-making), favorite food (treacle tart), favorite class (Defense), dreams for the future (become an Auror), or anything like that. 

Okay, so even though he might knew some basic things about Potter, those were things everyone else knew as well. Even if he somehow managed to acquire a treacle-flavored racing broom that caught criminals, he might as well just line up with the rest of the fans of the Boy Who Lived. No, Draco had to think of something brilliant, something that couldn't come from just any old fan and that would impress Potter and convey Draco's gratitude for the whole live-saving thing without him having to actually say anything. 

Now that he thought about it, this was actually a perfect opportunity. He knew exactly what he wanted his gift to convey to Potter. The only problem was to find a present that could do it.

*****

In seemingly no time at all, a week passed and Draco was barely any closer to figuring out Potter's gift. Really, what was anyone supposed to get for The Boy Who Had A Thousand Fans All of Whom Regularly Mail Him Gifts? He had done his best to ask around without arousing any suspicions, but nobody seemed to know anything about Potter besides whatever had most recently appeared in the Daily Prophet, and Draco knew better than to trust their questionable journalism. 

He had also made it a point to watch Potter as often as possible, which Draco was embarrassed to realize hardly required him to deviate from his normal routine at all. But now that he had begun analyzing about Potter's actions instead of simply observing them, he did realize one thing which nobody else seemed to have marked.

Despite his ludicrous amount of mail and the number of students who insisted on waving at him and giggling, Potter appeared to interact with almost no one outside of Granger and the Weasel. The other Gryffindors who made up Potter's satellite group of friends had apparently all paired up and each of them seemed busy with their respective boyfriends or girlfriends. Even Potter's personal sidekicks seemed to be ignoring their leader more than usual, despite the fact that Draco could have sworn they'd been an item for a few years at least. 

Perhaps the most surprising ignorer of Potter was the Girl Weasel, who Draco had always assumed would end up marrying the Golden Boy so they could create a great big Golden Family. This wasn't the first time Draco had wondered about the fact that the pair of them didn't seem to interact nearly as much as they used to, but now that Draco had his gift to consider, he had no choice but to find out what was going on. 

Before he could question how exactly Potter’s possibly failed relationship might lead to a fabulous gift, Draco had masterfully ambushed Ginevra Weasley by dragging her into an alcove on her way to the Gryffindor common room from the Quidditch pitch. 

“What the- MALFOY?! Get your hands off me, you slimy bastard!” she shrieked, and as he stared down at the wand that had been rapidly pressed into his cheek, Draco reflected that he really should have expected this.

He held his hands up in a placating gesture to show he was unarmed. “Let’s not be rash here! I just want to ask you some questions.”

“Questions?! You grabbed me and dragged me into an alcove! What questions couldn't you ask me in front of witnesses like a normal person?” Her grip on the wand tightened. 

“Er…” The girl Weasel did have a point. “Sorry?” Draco tried.

Weasley looked completely shocked for a few seconds and by the time she had recovered her composure, her anger seemed to have deflated. Not enough for her to remove the wand though, apparently. “Right, well, get on with it then. What did you want to ask?”

Draco applauded himself for successfully manipulating her and asked, “What happened with you and Potter?”

Girl Weasel’s eyes narrowed and he could see a flush spreading across her cheeks. “I don't see as that’s any of your business. You can't just attack me and then expect me to answer whatever personal—”

“I don't mean to pry, honest. I just… I need to know. I need to know for—” He wished he could tell her that he was Potter’s Secret Santa because that would make this a lot simpler, but he didn't want to risk breaking one of Granger’s rules. Instead he finished a bit lamely, “reasons. I need to know for reasons.”

“For—oh. Ooooh.” Girl Weasel no longer looked angry and for some reason was now sizing him up while smirking in a way that could only be described as conspiratorial. And the wand was back in her robes. Apparently Draco’s manipulation skills were beyond what even he had expected. “Alright then. Yeah, you’ll do. Harry and I decided not to get back together after the war. He’s single.” She winked.

Draco had no clue what this winking business was about and he wasn't sure what ‘he’d do’ for, but he did know that he felt a little thrill at the knowledge that Potter was unattached. Somehow he just knew he was on the right track for the perfect gift. 

“Right, thanks.” He smiled at Girl Weasel, feeling unusually charitable towards her at the moment. 

To Draco’s immense surprise, she beamed right back and patted him roughly on the shoulder, “You’re alright, Malfoy.”

Being called ‘alright’ by a Weasley was bizarre enough to make him realize just how out of character he had been acting, and he quickly focused on bringing back his Proper Malfoy personality. “Very well. I appreciate your help and would be grateful if you could refrain from informing Potter of our discussion.” He gave his best imperious look.

Girl Weasel snorted. “Sure, Malfoy. See you around!” With another pat to Draco’s shoulder she was off, leaving Draco to brush himself off and feel uncomfortable. 

But at least he knew now what Potter needed. Potter was clearly lonely and unable to find love. Draco had no doubt that the Golden Boy was unwilling to take advantage of any of the numerous fans who would willingly offer themselves simply because he’d killed the Dark Lord. And despite his supposed Gryffindor courage, Potter apparently didn't have the balls to try and hit on any of the Hogwarts girls who’d known him since they were children and weren’t quite so enamoured. 

But Potter was really quite attractive. Draco had no doubt that any girl would jump at the chance to be with him, Dark Lord slayer or not. All Draco had to do was pick the right one. 

*****

It turned out that over half of the of-age girls in Hogwarts either followed Potter around or pointed when they caught sight of him in the halls, so that was them out. 

As for the rest of the girls…

Granger and Hannah Abbot were dating Weasley and Longbottom, so they were obviously impossible.

Girl Weasel and Potter had already failed once, and Draco didn't see them getting back together. 

Luna Lovegood was certainly entertaining, but she was also insane. If Potter were into that, he’d have surely showed some signs by now. 

Pansy was his best friend, and hell would freeze over before he’d set up one of his own friends with Potter. 

Parvati Patil was too giggly and simpering.

Her sister Padma was a lesbian. 

Daphne was extremely vain.

Millicent hated everyone who wasn’t a cat.

And his last hope, Susan Bones, was apparently a Hufflepuff.

Draco was at a loss. It was the night before they were meant to be exchanging gifts and it seemed that none of the girls at Hogwarts were good enough for the Savior of the wizarding world. Although perhaps…

Draco knew that he was extremely picky, although he prefered to think of his taste as ‘discerning’ instead. Perhaps Potter was different. Maybe Potter would be fine with one of the girls who only giggled some of the times they saw him, or perhaps he was a secret cat animagus and would get along swimmingly with Millie. 

As reluctant as he was, Draco had no choice. He would have to talk to Potter. 

Decided, he set out immediately and was happy to find Potter lounging on a sofa and playing with a battered snitch in the common room. Granger and the Weasel sat nearby with their heads bent together, ignoring their friend as was usual these days. 

“Malfoy!” Potter all but yelped as he shot into a standing position and shoved the poor snitch into his robes upon seeing Draco standing over him. Draco wouldn’t have expected Potter of all people to be afraid of him still after everything that had happened, and he found himself a bit disappointed. 

“Potter,” he replied as neutrally as he could, “I was wondering if I might have a word.”

“Yeah! Um, of course!” Potter seemed more fidgety than normal. “Ginny said… nevermind. I’ve been meaning to talk to you as well.”

“Ginevra said wh— hold on. You have?”

“Er, yeah.”

Draco was officially confused. “What about, then?”

“Oh, you know.” 

Draco didn’t know. 

“Anyway,” Potter continued, “How’s… er… your mum?”

“My mother? You wanted to talk to me about my mother?” 

“Er… I guess?” Potter looked embarrassed, as he should after revealing himself to be the world’s worst conversationalist. 

“My mother is fine. Look, Potter, I don’t have time for your nonsense at the moment. I need to know something.” Draco was determined to get this present right, and he wasn’t going to beat around the bush. “What do you find attractive in a girl?”

At this, Potter’s expression morphed to resemble that of a very confused fish. A fish with eyebrows that furrowed in the middle of his forehead and lips that appeared to be mouthing Draco’s question silently over and over, as if trying to decipher its meaning. Draco found the display surprisingly endearing and had to work to keep the smile from his face. 

When Potter finally regained his ability to speak, it wasn’t to answer Draco’s question. “You don’t have time to talk about your mum, but you want to talk about girls?”

Well, when put like that it did sound a bit ridiculous. Draco felt his cheeks pinken a bit to match Potter’s, but he refused to be deterred. “Correct. Now answer the question.”

“Er… alright.” Potter thought for a bit before apparently coming to a decision. “I… er… thought you knew?”

“You thought I knew what you find attractive in a girl?” Draco had no idea how Potter could have possibly come to that conclusion. 

“No, I mean. I thought you knew that I don’t…” 

“You don’t…?”

“Find girls attractive.”

Draco began to panic. If Potter was some strange creature who didn’t even want a girlfriend, and all of his planning had been for nothing, he would be back where he’d started– without any clue of what gift to—

“I’m gay.”

Potter had apparently become concerned about Draco’s obvious anxiety and said something, but Draco didn’t think he had heard correctly. “What?”

“I’m gay.”

“You’re gay?”

“I’m gay. Gay, as in I’m attracted to men.”

Potter wasn’t just gay, he was close. Very close. So close that Draco could smell pine and soap. So close that Draco could count his dark eyelashes. That he could hear Potter’s shallow breaths, and feel them displacing the air around his own lips. In fact, Potter was so close that if Draco were to lean forward but another few inches, he thought he could probably taste—

“You’re GAY?” Draco blurted, and then turned on his heel and hurried as fast as he could to the privacy of his room. 

Potter was GAY?!

Potter was attracted to men?!

But this was brilliant! Now Draco had a whole new pool of potential lovers to choose from for Potter’s gift. No wonder none of the girls had seemed to fit. It all made sense now. 

Draco quickly ran through a mental list of all the boys in their year, excluding all of the stupid, ugly, and obviously straight ones. 

Finally, he was left with only one option. An option so perfect that he didn’t know how he could have missed it before. Draco was sure both parties would be absolutely thrilled with the match, because there was simply nobody better suited for Potter than the smartest, most handsome, probably-not-straight boy in Hogwarts. 

Draco fell asleep feeling very satisfied with himself, eager to see the look on Potter’s face when he realized what an amazing gift Draco had gone to the trouble to procure for him. 

*****

This was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas, and Draco had no choice at this point but to follow through. 

Potter was staring at him this time in a way that didn’t so much resemble a confused fish as it did an astonished owl. He stood very still and his eyes were open as wide as they could go before he started blinking rapidly as if to test whether Draco was perhaps an illusion. 

To be perfectly honest, Draco couldn’t even find it in himself to blame Potter. Sure, Potter had probably realized something was amiss when instead of receiving a present at the Christmas party, he’d found nothing more than a note telling him to come to the Room of Requirement alone at nine o’clock signed “Your Secret Santa.” Draco had felt a bit stupid about that last part, but he felt it was only right to continue playing Granger’s ridiculous game up to the very end. But there was no way Potter could have foreseen _this_. 

And now Draco felt a bit stupid about the whole idea. Potter was acting distinctly less excited than Draco had envisioned, and he was rapidly wishing that he could turn back time and just buy Potter some sodding fancy chocolates instead of making a complete fool out of himself trying to impress him with the perfect gift. 

“What are you staring at, Potter?” Draco demanded, finding refuge in his familiar haughty attitude. 

Potter either didn’t notice or didn’t care about Draco’s rudeness. “Uh, you.”

Draco knew he was blushing and he knew Potter could see and he hated himself for it. “Well, if you’re only interested in gawking at me, you can just turn around and leave.”

“What?” Potter seemed to come to his senses at last and his gaze snapped to Draco’s, making Draco feel even more exposed than he already was. “No! No, I’m sorry! It’s just… wow.”

“It’s just what, Potter?” Draco tried very hard not to shield his body with his arms when Potter’s gaze seemed to slide down once more. 

“It’s just… last time I saw you, I told you I’m gay and you got scared and ran away as fast as you could. And now, here you are, dressed up like… like a present.” Now Potter was the one flushing.

“I’m not dressed like a present, Potter. I am a present. Your present…” Potter just stared uncomprehendingly. “Happy Christmas,” Draco finished a bit lamely.

“ _MY–_ ” Potter choked, cutting himself off and then looking up helplessly as if he would find some sort of answer written on the ceiling. 

Draco glanced over at the mirror he had used to get ready before Potter arrived, trying to examine his outfit anew from Potter’s perspective. Really, ‘outfit’ was a bit of a stretch for what he had on. In fact, he wasn’t actually wearing anything except for a wide red ribbon, which he’d tied around his body to form a cross with a large bow in the center of his chest. Just the way all of his presents had always been done up before he would pull on one end of the bow, letting the entire ribbon fall away so he could tear at the wrapping paper. He’d had to transfigure the ribbon a bit and add a slit so he could stick his head through and make the vertical part a proper straight line running from his neck to where it disappeared between his legs, but otherwise he’d been very impressed with how easily he’d manage to wrap himself up. 

Of course, it was perhaps a bit odd that he wasn’t wearing any clothes underneath, but he couldn’t very well have managed to get the ribbon through his legs with robes on, and wearing only his green silk boxers had just seemed tacky. No, naked but for the ribbon was definitely the look that most enhanced Draco’s attractiveness. It showed off his slim torso and prominent hipbones, and if he were to turn around, there wouldn’t be anything to inhibit Potter from taking a nice long look at his fabulous arse. 

If Potter was even interested in his arse, that was. 

“Are you alright?” Draco asked once he’d reassured himself that he did, in fact, look great and had nothing to be embarrassed about. 

“Am I alright?” Potter repeated incredulously, once again staring at Draco. “Am I alright?! This is either a dream, or possibly the best day of my life.”

Draco smirked. “Well, it’s not a dream.”

Potter laughed a bit hysterically. “Then I suppose yes. Yes, I am alright.” 

“So…” Draco began after a brief awkward pause. “What do you think?”

“Of my gift?” He paused. “Were you my Secret Santa then?”

“Yes.”

“And you decided that for Christmas, you would give me… yourself.”

Draco felt himself flushing again. “I’ll have you know I considered everybody. That’s why I asked you what you like in a girl the other day. I hadn’t realized you were…”

“Gay?”

“Right.”

“So then you considered all of the guys in Hogwarts and decided you wanted to set me up with yourself?” Potter seemed to have moved past his disbelief at the situation and was now grinning annoyingly. 

“I determined that I was the best option,” Draco said matter-of-factly. 

“Yeah. I definitely agree with you there.” Potter’s annoying grin was only getting wider. 

Draco found himself incapable of keeping a smile off his own face. “So, you’re satisfied with your gift then?”

“More than. It’s probably the best gift I’ve ever gotten. It’s perfect.” Potter had began approaching Draco at some point and was now close enough to run his finger up the long section of ribbon bisecting Draco’s chest. 

“Perfect,” Draco replied a bit shakily. He hadn’t really planned this far, and he certainly hadn’t considered what to do if he were to get an erection while wearing nothing but a ribbon. He feared it was rapidly becoming more and more obvious, and Potter would surely notice at any second now. 

“So, do I get to unwrap my present then?” Potter whispered, and Draco could hear him because suddenly Potter’s mouth was right next to his ear, and his hands were all over Draco’s body, not just on the ribbon. Draco decided at this point to give up on any attempts to conceal his erection. 

“It’s your present, Potter,” he whispered back. “You can do whatever you want.”

“What if I want my present to call me Harry?”

Draco shuddered as Potter’s hands made their way down to palm his exposed arsecheeks, pulling them apart. “That can be arranged. Harry.”

Suddenly Potter’s hands came up to hold either side of Draco’s face, forcing their eyes to meet. “Merlin fucking hell, Malfoy. You are the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Draco felt something like a miniature explosion go off in his chest. He let out a whimper at Potter’s words just before the pair of them both leaned forwards and pressed their open mouths together in what was surely the best kiss Draco would ever experience. It was intense, yet slow and deliberate. Potter’s lips were soft and he tasted divine, like salted chocolate. Draco wrapped his arms around Potter’s neck and squeezed, unwilling to separate their mouths for even a moment. 

Potter apparently agreed, because he wrapped his own arms tightly around Draco’s waist and walked him backwards until suddenly Draco was falling, down, down, and onto a plush bed he could have sworn hadn’t been there last time he looked. Potter fell with him, and took the opportunity to kiss his way across Draco’s jaw and down his chest, finally stopping when he got to the large bow on Draco’s chest. 

“Can I…?” he asked tentatively, as if he thought Draco might refuse. 

“Anything, Harry,” Draco answered, extremely satisfied when his reply elicited a strained groan from Potter. 

Potter wasted no time in grabbing one end of the bow with his teeth and pulling, all the while gazing intently at Draco’s face. Draco was no stranger to being the center of attention, but somehow Potter’s focus made him squirm uncontrollably. He wanted to hide at the same time as he wanted to bask in it forever, and it was completely maddening. 

The ribbon was made of expensive silk, so when Potter straddled Draco’s thighs and sat up with one end of it still in his mouth, the bow came apart easily. Potter carefully lifted the ribbon off over Draco’s head and then slid it out from under his arched back before he looked down at where red silk was still draped over Draco’s cock. 

“Yes,” Draco moaned, more than ready for Potter to finally touch him. 

Potter grasped the edge of the ribbon and peeled it back almost reverently, finally revealing Draco's erection, which was by this point extremely hard. 

“Fucking beautiful,” sighed Potter, tossing aside the ribbon and bringing his hands back to draw teasing patterns across Draco’s abdomen. 

“Look at you, letting me unwrap you like a good present.” Draco squirmed some more as Potter continued to almost tickle him. “You know what I think? I think you’re actually a right little slut. Isn't that right, Draco?”

Draco couldn’t stop himself from whimpering. Fuck, but Potter had a dirty mouth on him. As much as Draco wanted to feel offended at being called a slut, he knew there would be no point in hiding how much he apparently liked it. His cock twitched. 

“I’m your slut now, Harry.”

“My slut. Fuck.” Harry lay down on forcefully top of Draco, covering Draco’s naked body with his own completely clothed one. He looked Draco in the eyes. “Are you sure? I mean, I don’t want you to feel like you have to–”

Draco cut him off before he could get any more ridiculously Gryffindor. “I’ve just tied myself up with a bow and told you I’m your Christmas present. I think if I wanted to back out, I could have done so before now.” 

He rolled his eyes and then allowed himself to be distracted when Harry kissed him again, long and lingering. “Okay. Do you want to, er, have… er...”

“Fuck?” It was amazing how Potter was so sure of himself one second and so bumbling the next.

“Yeah. Do you want to have fuck?” Potter winced at his awkward phrasing.

“Yes, Harry.” Draco decided that in order to fulfill his role as a good Christmas Present, he would refrain from mocking. “I want to have fuck.” He grinned.

Potter’s returning smile was blinding. “Good,” he said, and then kissed Draco again before suddenly letting out a nervous chuckle.

“What is it _now_?” Draco asked, quite impatient to get on with the fucking they’d been discussing.

“I was just thinking… only you could use being my Secret Santa as an opportunity to take something from me.” Potter looked sheepish. 

“Take–? What are you talking about? I’ve been on my best behavior here. What could I possibly be _taking_?”

“Er… my virginity?” Potter said tentatively with a slight wince, as if he thought Draco might sneer and shove him away for his inexperience. 

Instead Draco felt a weight that he hadn’t been aware of lift from his chest, and he wrapped his arms around Potter. “Well that’s okay then. Because you’ll be taking mine as well, so it cancels out.”

“Yeah?” Potter was back to grinning like a loon. 

“Yes, Potter. Now can we _please_ get on with the fucking?”

“Ah ah ah. That’s Harry to you.” Confident Potter had apparently made his reappearance, and Draco was not complaining. “Now then. Since you’re my good little present, I get to use you however I want, yeah?”

Draco could feel his cock refilling from where it had softened during their conversation. “Yes!”

“Alright. I know I just unwrapped you, but I think I’m gonna tie you up again.” Harry grabbed the ribbon from where he had discarded it earlier in one hand and Draco’s wrists in his other. He lifted Draco’s arms above his head, and Draco was so excited he couldn’t even bring himself to feel guilty about not putting up a token struggle. Potter tied Draco’s wrists to the headboard with what Draco suspected was a big red bow and sat back to admire his handiwork. 

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he sighed, his eyes roaming over Draco’s naked body. 

Suddenly, a wicked grin spread across Potter’s face. Draco didn’t think he had ever seen the Golden Boy look so evil, and he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that it was extremely attractive. Potter swung his leg over Draco so he was once again straddling his hips and finally began divesting himself of his clothing. 

Draco knew he should be paying more attention to Potter’s undeniably very sexy strip tease, but all he could do was be amazed that he was already the most turned on he’d ever been in his life and only _now_ was Potter taking off his clothes. He wasn’t entirely confident he’d be able to survive the rest of the night. 

Draco bucked his hips, desperate for some friction, but Potter only chuckled and stood up, removing his trousers and pants entirely too slowly for Draco’s taste. His cock was amazing and beautiful and hard and Draco wanted it in him _right now_. 

He couldn’t stop himself from whining. “Hurry _up_!”

“Impatient, are we?”

“Yes! I don’t know how you’re so calm right now.”

Potter laughed. “I’m not calm. I’m just taking my time so I can savor seeing you like this.”

“But wouldn’t you rather savor my arse?” Draco asked, and then immediately panicked when a look of intense hunger came across Potter’s face and he slid back on the bed, purposefully pushing up Draco’s thighs to expose his arse. 

“Yes, I would very much like to savor your arse. Who knew my present could make such helpful suggestions?” Potter smirked, his eyes glued to the sight before him. 

“That’s not what I meant!” Draco insisted, but without much conviction. 

“Maybe not, but you want it, yeah? Want me to lick your pretty little hole?” Potter brought a fingertip to Draco’s rim and began tracing it lightly.

Draco groaned. “Bloody hell, Potter, where did you learn to _talk_ like that?” Wasn’t he supposed to be a virgin?

“Magazines,” Potter chucked, making Draco twitch as he continued his tentative explorations. 

“The savior of the wizarding world looks at gay porn magazines? The scandal!” But Draco couldn’t distract himself from the feeling of Potter’s fingers even with the idea of outing Potter’s kinky tendencies. 

Potter rolled his eyes. “Do you not like it? Do you want me to stop?”

Stopping was the opposite of what Draco wanted. “Don’t stop! Carry on, please. Lick my pretty little hole.” Draco shuddered with arousal as he repeated Potter’s phrasing.

“Fuck yes,” Potter groaned, and then he was making good on his promise. 

Potter started out a bit tentatively, probably making sure he could deal with the taste, and already Draco was overwhelmed. When Potter hummed and started licking and sucking and fucking Draco with his tongue in earnest, Draco lost all control of his faculties and started up a near constant stream of moans and expletives. 

After an embarrassingly short time, Draco realized he was on the edge of coming and so he did the only thing that occurred to him and wildly bucked his hips to throw Potter off. 

“Sorry,” he panted, “I was about to come.”

Potter pressed a light kiss against the head of Draco’s cock, and Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected sensation on his extremely sensitive skin. 

Draco thought he might have made an embarrassingly high-pitched moan, but he had no more room in his head at the moment for a silly thing like pride. “Fuck me, Harry. Please. I’m ready.”

“Yeah? You want me to fuck you, Malfoy?”

“Oh God, yes Potter. I want to feel your cock inside me. I want to make you come.” Potter wasn't the only one with magazines. 

Now Potter made a high-pitched whimpering noise, and far from embarrassing, Draco found it ridiculously hot. 

“We need– ah.” Potter cut himself off as a jar of lube appeared in his hand. Draco had really done well choosing their location. 

Potter hurriedly uncapped the jar and shoved his fingers in, scooping out an unnecessary amount of lube. He wasted no time in reaching down to insert two fingers into Draco. 

“Fuck!” Draco cried, unused to the feeling. He’d tried fingering himself a few times before, but he’d never had anything inside him that went as deep as Potter’s fingers. For some reason the discomfort only made him want more. 

“Your cock, Potter!” Draco wanted to watch Potter’s face as he entered Draco. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes!” He wanted to see the evidence of how he was making Potter feel, and he wanted it now. 

Potter removed his fingers from Draco’s hole and shifted closer, lining himself up and looking Draco in the eyes. Yes, this was much better.

“Let me just…” Potter muttered, and then he reached up and undid the ribbon binding Draco’s wrists. 

“Yes,” Draco found himself agreeing out loud with the action, and he brought his arms down and around Potter’s back, which was surprisingly lovely and muscled.

“Yes,” Potter replied, and leaned down to kiss Draco again. He could taste himself on Potter’s lips, and he vaguely mused that the salted chocolate flavor had been preferable, but it didn't matter. Potter was kissing him, and touching him all over, and he was holding on to Potter with no plans to let go, and it all felt amazing.

Without breaking their kiss, he moved his hand down to squeeze Potter’s arse and let him know that he was ready. Potter reached down as well and stopped kissing Draco so that they could watch each other’s expressions when Potter finally slid in.

Draco’s eyes widened and he gasped at how much even a few inches of Potter’s cock was stretching him. Potter bit his own lip, clearly holding himself back from pushing all the way in, and then bent his head down to playfully bite Draco’s lip as well. For some reason this helped Draco relax, and Potter was able to go a few inches deeper. 

They continued in this fashion until Potter was sheathed all the way inside, at which point he stopped and remained still. 

“You’re amazing,” he whispered reverently. Draco wasn't used to anyone he cared about praising him like that with such sincerity, and he felt like he might melt on the spot. 

Instead he just brought his hands up and around to cup Potter’s face, pulling him down for a sweet kiss. “Best present you’ve ever got?”

“Absolutely. And the best part is you’re all mine.” Here Potter slid a few inches out of Draco and back in again, seemingly unable to help himself. Draco sucked in a breath, but was pleasantly surprised to find it hardly hurt at all anymore.

He smiled, unable to hide his delight at Potter wanting Draco to be his. “All yours,” he said, hoping to prompt more possessiveness. 

“Mine.” Potter kissed him, and Draco celebrated internally.

“Don't you think it’s about time you started fucking what’s yours then, Harry?” he whispered seductively, pleased to see the effect he could have on Potter. For all they kept talking about Draco belonging to him, Draco suspected from the look on Potter’s face that he was giving away just as much of himself to Draco. 

“Fuck,” Potter choked out, looking helpless as he began to slide slowly in and out of Draco.

“More,” Draco insisted once he confirmed that he was no longer in pain. Potter moved his hips faster, beginning to pant with exertion. 

Draco raised his already spread legs and wrapped them around Potter, crying out when this caused Potter’s cock to repeatedly hit his prostate. 

“That’s right, Draco,” Potter praised, but Draco had lost his ability to respond with anything besides gasps and whimpers. 

Potter reached down and grasped Draco’s cock, finally. Draco thought Potter might have been about to tell him to come, but it was too late. As soon as Potter touched him he exploded, releasing himself all over their stomachs and chests in what was undoubtedly the most intense orgasm of his life.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” said Potter and he picked up his pace, fucking into Draco as he greedily watched Draco’s destruction by orgasm. It didn't take long after that for Potter to reach his own climax, muttering nonsense as he buried his face in the crook of Draco’s neck. 

Draco was exhausted, but he couldn't resist wrapping his arms around Potter even as he unhooked his legs. They lay together without moving for a while before Potter slipped out and rolled onto his side, pulling Draco with him so that they were still facing each other. 

“That was incredible,” Potter said, running his thumb along Draco’s cheek and making him feel supremely satisfied with himself.

“Of course it was; it was me,” Draco quipped. 

But Potter ignored the humor. “Yeah.”

Draco’s heart clenched. “Wow, you sound completely smitten,” he said. He wasn't sure why he was pushing it right at this moment, except that he felt so good that he didn't want to stop himself from saying whatever came into his head. 

“Yeah...I think I am,” Potter answered seriously, and Draco felt the bottom drop out of his stomach for what must be the thousandth time tonight. 

“Good,” he replied, “because you’re stuck with me now.”

Potter gave another of his blinding grins, which were beginning to annoy Draco less and less. “You mean I get to keep you?”

“Obviously. I’m not a whore, you know. I wasn't just offering one free fuck.” Draco rolled his eyes.

“That’s good. Because if I remember correctly, there was a three galleon price limit, and I’d hate to think you were selling amazing fucks like that for so cheap.”

Draco shoved Potter’s shoulder. “If I were selling fucks, you’d never be able to afford one, Potter.”

“Well then it’s a very good thing for me that you’re not, isn't it?” Somehow even when Potter was being an arsehole, he was still incredibly sweet.

“Yes, you’re very lucky. Although let’s clarify that I chose to ignore the ridiculous price limit and gift you with something priceless instead.” Couldn't have Potter thinking Draco valued himself at three galleons.

“I know,” Potter said sweetly and leaned forward to kiss Draco again. 

Draco congratulated himself on giving Potter the perfect gift, and somehow managing to benefit from it himself as well. He’d accomplished exactly what he’d set out to do. Well, except–

“Potter?” He said, breaking their kiss.

“Harry.”

“Right. Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving me.”

“Er… what?” Potter looked confused, as if he didn't think every day about the fact that he’d saved Draco’s life. He probably didn't.

“From the fire. You know. Here,” he clarified, nodding to indicate the room they were in.

“Oh,” said Potter, looking surprised. “Yeah. Don't worry about it. It was nothing.”

“It was nothing?!” exclaimed Draco, feeling the first stirrings of anger cutting through his post-orgasm bliss.

“I mean– That’s not what I meant! I meant… I’m really glad I did it. So… don't feel like you owe me or anything. Plus, you saved my life that time at the manor, so we’re even anyway,” Potter explained.

Draco felt his anger retreat. If Potter didn't feel Draco owed him anything, then that was good enough for him. “Alright.”

“Good,” said Potter, clearly putting an end to the discussion. “Now let’s go back to the common room so I can show everybody my present and they can guess who it’s from. When I left, they’d started a betting pool, you know.”

Draco groaned. Of course they had. He wanted to feel embarrassed about the prospect of everyone realizing exactly what he’d decided to give Potter, but Potter’s thrilled expression as he contemplated showing Draco off made it difficult. 

“Up you get!” said Potter, springing out of bed with ridiculous energy that Draco absolutely could not muster at the moment. 

Draco groaned again. “I hope you don’t expect me to wear my ribbon to the common room.”

Potter laughed. “No, that was a sight for my eyes only. But…” A mischievous look came into his eyes. “Maybe you should wear part of the ribbon around your neck so people can see you’re mine.”

Draco blushed. There was no way he was doing that, but he couldn’t help but be pleased at the thought. “I’ll wear it around my wrist, and that’s all you’re getting.”

“But I thought you were mine now!”

“If you think that means I’m going to do anything you say, you’re delusional.”

Potter pouted but obediently severed a part of the ribbon with his wand and began tying it around Draco’s wrist. 

“Besides, I think they’ll probably be able to tell even without the ribbon,” Draco muttered, and of course Potter heard him and gave his blinding smile. Draco could see himself spending a lifetime saying ridiculously sappy things just for the sake of seeing that smile. 

“Definitely,” agreed Potter, pulling Draco up off the bed and into his arms. “Now let’s go! You skipped the party earlier, so you still haven’t even seen your own present.”

“Oh!” Draco exclaimed, realizing Potter had a point. He’d been so busy getting ready and worrying about how Potter would react to his gift that Draco had completely forgotten that he would be receiving one as well. 

“Yeah! Who knows? It might be something really good.”

Draco laughed. “For three galleons? Doubtful, Potter.”

But Draco found that he didn’t actually care what he received. As he got dressed and made his way back to the common room hand-in-hand with Potter, he felt perfectly content. No matter whether there was a flobberworm or the most decadent chocolate in the world waiting for him, he knew he’d already given himself the best present imaginable. 

Judging from the way he kept stealing glances at Draco as they walked, he thought it was safe to say that Potter agreed.

**Author's Note:**

> That was my first attempt at writing smut, I hope it was ok?!? Let me know what you think!
> 
> Also follow me on tumblr if you want to read my infinite headcanons that I am too lazy to turn into real fics :)


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